From Assassin to High King
by The Eternal Guest
Summary: What's a (slightly unhinged) Dragonborn to do when the Dragons are gone? Why, become the High King of Skyrim of course! This Dragonborn is manipulative, ambitious, and, fair's fair, a bit of an asshole. Watch as he betrays and manipulates the people around him until he stands at the very top!
1. Chapter 1

Assassin, Thief, Dragonborn, High-King

"Why, Dragonborn?" Ulfric almost wails, "Why would you aid the Empire? You are all a Nord should be, strong, fast, for Talos' sake, you're even Dragonborn! Why would you fight us?"

We stood inside the Palace of Kings, the city of Windhelm burning outside the door, battling the rain the storm brought.

Inside the throne room stood general Tullius, legate Rikke, Ulfric and I. The corpse of Galmar Stonefist lay cooling at my feet, his chest slashed open by my sword of Ebony.

The clamour of battle seemed to be dying down outside, the clashes of steel and shouts becoming fewer and further between.

"Because you're fighting the wrong people Ulfric. The Empire is not the enemy. The Thalmor are. And Skyrim may push the Empire out, but it would weaken both sides and leave us both open to attack. Look at this." I explain, and throw a thin book at him.

"What is it?" he asks despondently.  
"That is the Thalmor file on you, Ulfric. Note how it lists you as a passive asset. Your petty war on the Empire has done nothing but help the Thalmor." I sneer.

"The Empire was ruled by the Thalmor!" Ulfric shouts, regaining confidence, "They dictated who we could worship and what we could do!"  
"No Ulfric. Titus Mede the Second was ruled by his fear of the Thalmor. Which is why he had to die. I had hoped your pointless power struggle would end with that, but I was wrong." Ulfric is surprised by this, but so is General Tullius.

"You killed the Emperor? But your oath-" I stop the general there, "-when I made my oath I swore loyalty to the Empire. If I remember correctly I refused to swear loyalty to the Emperor. He was a cowardly fool, and he had to die."  
"And Ulfric? I may be everything a true Nord should be, but I am so many more things 'true Nords' fear and despise."

"How do you mean?" Ulfric curiously asks.

I almost laugh. "Don't you remember the details of the Emperors death? It was a professional job. A Brotherhood job."

"You're an assassin?!" both the general and Ulfric exclaim at the same time, horrified.

"More than that. I am the listener of the Dark Brotherhood. And that report I just gave you, Ulfric, do you believe it is easy to steal things from the Thalmor embassy? It takes a talented thief to do that. Perhaps even a master of the guild?" I say.

"The Listener?" Tullius almost shouts, "But... Well, at least being the master of the thieves guild pales in comparison."

"No no no," I shake my head, "the master of the thieves' guild in Skyrim is almost always an agent of Nocturnal."

"You choose to serve Daedra? In life and death? You'll serve in Nocturnal's court forever?" Rikke doesn't seem to understand.  
"I highly doubt it. Nocturnal is one of the least of the Daedric Princes with a claim to my soul. Boethiah, Molag Bal, Vaermina, Sanguine, Hercine and especially Mehrunes Dagon would defeat her in a claim to my soul. Only Peryite is less likely to have me in his plane of oblivion." I almost laugh at how shocked they look.

"You would just... Give up on any afterlife? On Sovngarde?" Ulfric doesn't understand at all.

"Ulfric... I cannot go anywhere but Sovngarde. First of all, all who defeat Tsun, guardian of Shor's halls, may enter and remain there, second... I am Dragonborn, Ulfric. I have the blood of the Dov and have devoured the souls of at least thirty dragons, including that of the first born of Akatosh himself. I will not die, at least not for a long time yet."

"What does defeating the Guardian of the Bridge have to do with escaping Oblivion? Wouldn't the Daedra come for you before you arrived in Sovngarde and fought him?" Ulfric questions.

"Where do you think I fought the World-Eater? I have already defeated Tsun. My afterlife is assured.  
Anyway, another thing Nords hate; I am the Arch-Mage of the College of Winterhold."

"Wouldn't we have heard? I had no idea you were even slightly magically inclined." Tullius asks, having shaken off the shock of hearing I am in charge of assassins all over Tamriel.

"I kept it quiet, for that very reason. Nobody expects me to shoot storms of ice from my palms, so they are unprepared." I grin.  
"So Ulfric, am I still all a Nord should be? Warrior, Assassin, Thief, Dragonborn. Only half of those fit your image of Nordic perfection, yet I am all those and more." I shake my head.

"This war has gone on long enough, Tullius, will you do the honours?" I ask.

"Now hold on! I'm not going down without a fight!" Ulfric yells.  
"FUS RO DAH!" he Shouts. Both Tullius and Rikke are thrown back, but I hold my ground.

"Still up to your cowardly tricks, Ulfric? That may have worked on Torygg, but I am far from ignorant of the Voice. I still do not see how you justify using a power he could not possibly defend himself against, and call it fair." I sneer at him.

"Anyone can master the Thu'um, given time and practice!" Ulfric argues, "That he didn't bother shows he was unfit as a king!"

"You and I both know that the Greybeards very rarely take an apprentice that will not follow in their footsteps. Torygg never had the opportunity to learn what you did. Now let's see how strong your Thu'um is! Shout! Let me taste of your Voice!" I goad the defeated lord.

"YOL TOR SHUUL!" he Shouts, and flames roar from his mouth and surround me.

Rikke, who was standing up at this point, screamed in anguish. She had become rather attached to me, and seeing me roasted wasn't very nice. The Night Mother had ordered me to lead her on, to solidify my position.

When the flames died down though, I stood unharmed, and laughing.

"That is your Voice, Ulfric?" I say chuckling. "I've seen Draugr with stronger Shouts than that! This is what the Voice should feel like!"

"FUS RO DAH!" I Shout, choosing Unrelenting Force over the Inferno, since I didn't want to kill him yet.

My Thu'um throws him back, smashing him against the wall and holding him there for ten seconds, before he collapsed.

Tullius, now recovered, hands me his sword. "You should finish this Dragonborn. You turned the tide in this war, it's only right that you end it."

Not wasting any more time on conversation, I grasp the sword.

"KRIIST US ZEY!" I Shout, summoning him before me. I spin around, the sword stretched before me. His head falls to the ground, and his body follows.

-Aftermath-_

The enemy leader dead and almost all his followers dead or captured, the war is over.

"What's stopping me from arresting you now, Dragonborn? You admitted to many crimes, including murder and theft." Tullius says.

"Tullius. The war is just ended, Alduin has recently been defeated, the vampire threat has been eradicated and Miraak's return thwarted. All of these were either done by me or by a group I played a large and visible role in. Is this the time to turn on me? It'll start a new war." I tell him.

He looks almost convinced, but not quite. "Besides which, general, let's be honest. Where would you keep me? The Thieves' Guild, the Dark Brotherhood and the Blades all have members hidden in many places, some very important. I would never be kept in a jail. And who would you send to capture me? There are not many that would attack me. There are few, if any, that could fight me without killing me. For Talos' sake man, with three words I could summon a Dragon from the Soul Cairn! Don't start a battle you cannot win."

He sighs, accepting defeat, and heads outside to give a speech, leaving me alone with Legate Rikke.

"You lied to me." she said, straight to the point.  
"Aye, that I did." I wonder how she'll react.  
"Was anything that you told me true? Or was everything a lie?" she asks, a desperate edge entering her voice.  
"Well... I am Dragonborn, I did save Tamriel from Alduin, Miraak and the vampires who wanted to master the sun." I tell her.  
"So you just kept silent about the evil things you did? Why? Why would you mislead me?" she sounds quite devastated.

"How much have you told me in confidence that you would not have told me knowing what I am? I lied because that was what was best for me. What would aid me most in my goals." I almost laugh at her face. She looks disgusted.

"You... You're evil! How could you do something like that to me... to anyone? How could you be so cruel?" she sneers.

"Woman, don't be so self-centered! I've killed countless people, on contracts and in passing. I've looked into people's eyes as a poison I gave them took effect and laughed as life left them. I've stolen a beggar's last coin for the hell of it! And what strikes you as evil is the fact that I would lead someone on?" I laugh.

"Now I can finally get rid of these awful weapons." I say, throwing away my sword and shield, "Why anyone would choose these over stabbing someone in the back or shooting them from the shadows is beyond me!"

"Maybe it's because they have honour!" she shouts, in what I presume is meant to be a cutting tone.

"I wonder how many honourable people I've killed..." I think aloud.

"I've had it with you you evil bastard!" Rikke shouts at me. She charges me with her sword ready to strike.

With a wave of my hand her muscles lock in place, leaving her paralysed.

"I am a Mage, Rikke! I am not unarmed just because my sword is gone! Now what to do with you..." I wonder what I should do with her.

As the thought strikes me I almost laugh.

"Gol kreh fen." I Shout softly. Bend Will. She stand shakily, following my mental commands. She retrieves her sword from the ground and moves to the door. I wave my hand and the door opens before her, revealing Tullius giving a speech to the soldiers.

Her mind fights me, realising what she's about to do. But she is weak.

'Kill him. Kill them all' the insidious whispers in her head urge her, and her resolve crumbles.

"For the Empire!" Tullius yells, just as his loyal Legate decapitates him and charges the soldiers.

I stand back and watch for a while. While weak of mind, her body is strong, and she fights well. I almost wish this could go on for longer.

She easily dispatches five of the gathered Imperials, before they even realise what's going on. After that she has more difficulty, but she kills the other twelve that were stood there.

Just as she kills the last man, his guts spilling out onto the street, another group of soldiers arrives. I make her look up at them just as I run out of the Palace. I take her down quickly, smashing a shield into her right wrist, sending her weapon flying.

They all saw what she did. There was no denying her guilt in their minds. I laugh in my head as hers rolls away from the block.

"Isn't it awful?" I ask the newly crowned High-Queen. "Two of the highest ranking members of the Legion in Skyrim, dead by the actions of one of them. Do we know what possessed her?" I continue, my voice laden with sorrow, though I laugh in my mind.

"We don't." Elisif said, "She kept insisting that you forced her to do what she did, and made all sorts of ridiculous allegations against you. Did something happen between you two, in the Palace?" she asks curiously.

I have planned all this, within a day of Rikke's 'crime'. This will be my claim. My legacy.

"Well... Yes actually. I had told her I couldn't keep seeing her. She was quiet, and left then. I remained in the Palace for a while, and when I left... Well, there she was." I say, sounding unhappy. "Was it... Do you think this is my fault? My queen?" I try to make my voice as guilt-laden as possible.

"Of course not!" she exclaims. "What she has done is nobody's fault but her own! Though I must ask... Why did you break it off with her?"

I knew this would happen, and I almost jump for joy. Instead though, I look bashful.

"W-well... When we spoke with Ulfric, your name came up a few times my queen. And I couldn't help but realise that all that I was doing for the Empire... For Skyrim... It was really all for something else." I say, waiting for her curiosity to overpower her.

"What then?" there it is.

"You, my queen. All I did was for you. And it saddens me that it can never be, but I could not resign myself to any other woman, for that would only lead to us both being unhappy." I say, sounding completely despondent.

"Why could it never be?" she asks. By this time we we're in the Blue Palace where I once told her I had stopped Ulfric from taking Whiterun. I have known for a long time that Elisif is more than fond of me. I had been playing up my affections with Rikke when near her, and seen her reactions.

"Look at yourself, my queen, and look at me!" I laugh sadly. "You, High-Queen of Skyrim, rightly named 'the Fair' for both your appearance and heart. And me. An ugly scarred misfit who likely would have been a mercenary were it not for the Dragon crisis! You will always be far out of my reach."

"I think I shall be the one to decide that, Dragonborn." she whispers, moving closer. "And I think you far from beneath me." and with that she kisses me. So predicable.

"Are you... Are you sure, my Queen?" I say, still playing uncertain. "I mean, I'd understand if-" she kisses me again. As she pulls back, I let the smile that I've been holding back for hours spread across my face.

"I'm sure." she whispers, smiling. "And I hope to be a lot more than just your queen soon..."

"You mean..." I trail off, knowing full well what she means.

"That I would marry you." she says, before becoming uncertain. "That is, if you want to..."

I lift her up, spinning around and laughing. Everything went as planned.

I leave for the Dawnstar Sanctuary the next morning, claiming I needed to ready my clothes for the wedding.

When inside I let loose, laughing insanely.

"What is that bloody racket?" Nazir says, entering the main room. "I thought Cicero had returned!"

"Be careful how you speak!" I say, still laughing, "Respect your betters!"

"The Dark Brotherhood is one of equals, Listener." Babette said, joining us.

"Ah ah ah! You don't know who I am!" I say, almost hysterical.

"You're the Dragonborn, thane of some holds and so on, we know." Nadir deadpanned. "I thought we were done with this."

"But I'm also..." I stop, building tension.

"What?" Babette snaps.

"THE FUTURE HIGH-KING OF SKYRIM!" I shout, dancing around the room. "Guess who charmed Elisif?" I say to their confused faces.

"No way..." Nazir muttered.

"YES WAY!" I giggle manically. "The wedding is next week. You're welcome to come, though not in official capacity of course. Can't have another Vici-Wedding disaster, can we?"

Then I leave, heading to Whiterun. I needed to prepare my wedding 'suit'. I hate clothing. It makes me feel so... Vulnerable. I won't wear anything that would leave me open to attack. Even magical armour like Ebonyskin requires warning to set up, warning I might not get.

What I'm planning on wearing to the wedding will be new. I don't know if anyone has done this before, or if it can be done. I just hope the Skyforge is hot enough...

The day is here. The day an assassin, a thief becomes High-King of Skyrim. I'm almost giddy with happiness that this all worked out. Let them think I'm happy about wedding my 'one true love'.

My suit sure is turning heads. My original plan failed, as I had been planning to use a Dragon's bones to make a suit of armour, but I couldn't for the life of me shape the bones that much. I managed to make a sword out of one, by weakening it in fire and carving the excess off, leaving me with one sharp bit off bone. I made a hilt for it and am wearing it at my hip now.

What I did manage was to bend Dragon Scales, and glue them together with a combination of Ebony and steel. The parts of my body that needed flexibility were covered in mail, hundreds of rings of Ebony.

Nothing screams 'DRAGONSLAYER' quite like wearing part of a Dragon's corpse.

The ceremony seems to be going fine, until one of the men on the front row jumps up and charges Elesif, while brandishing a knife.

This won't do! She's my ticket to being King!

I grasp Elesif's shoulder and pull her behind me, while lifting my other arm to catch the dagger. The dagger strikes the palm of my hand, but shatters on the gauntlet. Wasting no time I twist his arm behind him and hand him to the guards.

He will be getting a visit tonight.

But out here, I must be kind. "Let's have no more of that then!" I say jokingly to the crowd, breaking some of the tension and bringing nervous laughs.  
"I don't want anything to ruin today!" Elesif says plainly.

"As long as you're next to me, nothing could ruin this day, or any other day." I say lovingly.

The ceremony finishes, and we head to the Palace.

"How did your armour shatter the blade? It looks like some sort of scale... Wouldn't that shatter?" My wife asks.

"Dragonscale is hard to shatter, my love. I would know." I grin.

"Dragonscale..." she whispers with awe.

And we retire for the night.

And I wake as High-King, sitting on a throne beside my wife.

There are a few tense moments; Maven Black-Briar, for example, threatens to release knowledge of my thieving past unless I allow her certain liberties.

Maven Black-Briar does not wake again.

Ah, the joys of leading a guild of assassins.

And so begins the rule of the Dragonborn. It would seem that the ladder to the top truly is made of bones.


	2. Chapter 2

Foolish. Foolish, foolish, foolish! How didn't I see this coming! I'm not the High King, not yet at least, I'm just the High Queen's husband! The people listen to me because I'm Dovahkiin, not because I'm their king!

But I know how to solve this problem, yes I do. When Torygg died, Elisif took over almost instantly, the moot but a formality. Why would it be any different if Elisif were to die? Slow poison, make it look like disease... That might work, yes, yes it will!

But that servant girl from Cyrodiil is catching on. I don't know how, but little Laiwen seems to know there's something wrong, something false. She has no proof yet, and I'll need to make sure she never gets any! I'll ask around, see what she used to do, maybe that'll lead to something.

Even as all this is going through my head, I hold court in the Blue Palace.  
"What ails you, Jirod?" I ask the farmer.

The farmer's high pitched nasally voice replies, and I'm tempted to just give the man whatever he wants, just to shut him up. Or kill him. Probably kill him.  
"Well, my lord Dragonborn," again, not sire, not king! "Bandits have been robbing our village recently, and we can't fight them off on our own!"

I refrain from telling him to pick up a sword and learn to be able to solve the problem on his own, and instead reply, "This can't be allowed to stand! Do you know where these bandits are holed up?"

"Near Pinemoon Caves, my lord, it's-" he replies, but I interrupt him.

"I know where Pinemoon Caves lie! I shall personally eradicate this blight upon Skyrim! If you would wait until the eleventh hour, we could leave together!" I say, sounding gallant. I'm actually just pleased at the chance to kill once more; who knew that being the High-Queen's husband took this much time?

"Sire, I must protest, the dangers-" my overprotective steward starts,  
"It can hardly be more dangerous than dragons! We leave in two hours, what say you?" I ask the farmer.

"Yes my lord!"

But even now, though most of the court is convinced, that damned steward is still eyeing me suspiciously.

"The court is in recess!" I declare, to groans from those waiting to argue their case, "Laiwen! I would speak to you!" I then say, leading her away.

"So, lass, what did you do before becoming a steward? Why become a steward at all? Where are you from?" I fire off questions, but instead of answering the questions the foolish girl questions me. Me!  
"My lord, I do not believe this was worth pausing the court for! Why do you ask these things of me?"

"I know most of the courtiers, and their pasts, their dreams and aspirations, but not yours! Why all I know of you is your name and place at the court!" I say amicably. The girl is still sceptical.  
"But why would you need to know more?" she asks.

"What if I ever have need of someone with a specific talent, and, not knowing your expertise in that subject, hire someone lesser? I need to know what those surrounding me are capable of!" I explain.

"Well, alright then," she says. But still with that gods' damned suspicion! "I served at the Arcane University for a while, under Ralirys Varon..."  
"The master of Mysticism?" I question immediately.  
"Yes."

That explains it. The school of Mysticism is all about looking beyond what lies under the surface. No matter How careful I am, this one will always know there is something off. Which means she has to go...

"Well, back to court then!" I exclaim, not revealing any of my inner musings.  
After spending two more hours listening to some villager's inane concerns, I'm itching to kill something. Someone.

As Jarod and I walk along the path eastwards, towards Pinemoon Cave, the man is talkative. Very talkative. Just because I allow the man to walk with me doesn't mean I desire for him to talk with me! Finally we arrive, and I ask him whether he wants to come along. If I'm lucky he'll end up dead, and if I'm unlucky... Who am I kidding? He'll end up dead.

When we enter the main cavern, the annoying farmer still yapping, everyone in it looks up. All twelve of the bandits. An archer instantly shoots down Jirod, and I almost jump for joy.

One on twelve is hard to do fairly, so I resort to creative tactics. "TIID KLO UL!" I shout. Time Slow. My movements become slightly sluggish, but it is nothing compared to them. They appear to freeze entirely, and I slit their throats one by one, until only the leader stands.  
I feel the effects lessening and get right in his face.

"FUS!" I shout, using only the first word. I don't want him dead yet. The Shout throws him back, and when he regains his bearings and looks around, his jaw drops. "Who in Oblivion are you!" he exclaims.

"Oh yes, I do wonder, a young bloke throwing around Words of Power, that doesn't narrow it down at all, does it? I am Calahar Dovahkriid, High King of Skyrim, and you are my next victim!" I inform the idiot, and I stab him through his arm, then rip the dagger out.  
"And since one of your men shot the only witness you'd have had, you'll be my victim for quite a while..." I say with a dark smile.

His screams were delicious.

After that I head to Dragonbridge to inform them the threat has been taken care of, and to offer my condolences to the newly widowed wife of the late Jirod.

"What will I do?" she wails, "I can't take care of my two children on my own, and I can't earn the money I need to feed all of us!"  
"Here," I say compassionately, what a laugh, and hand her a small bag, "two thousand Septims, come to Solitude if you need more."

The best shield a king can have is the love of his people, whether he actually deserves it or not. But it's so simple to gain, most men are so focused on what they perceive that they do not search below the surface, and those that do fear to go against popular opinion!

I head back to Solitude alone, leaving behind a teary but grateful widow and a town that loves me even more than before.

Before I enter the room I share with my _beloved_ wife, I pause, hearing whispers. Glancing down, I see the door has been locked from the inside, making me think that Elesif is one of the people inside. A whispered "Laas" reveals one other person, standing close to her. A woman, judging by her slight stature.

I lean close against the door and listen to their conversation.

"Sire, you asked me to see if anyone at the court seemed off... Well, I'm not sure how to tell you this..." Laiwen, the servant girl, is the second woman.  
"What is it? Is there someone false?" High Queen Elisif asks.

"Yes, but I don't think you'll like it." Laiwen says hesitantly.  
"I command you to tell me! Now!" my wife says, angered at this hesitation and dithering.

"It's Calahar!" she bursts out.  
"My husband? Why, how dare you! He has never shown any sort of disloyalty or insincerity!"

"I know, I know! I only notice anything after casting Sixth Sense, but without it he seems kind and helpful and gallant! Why, just this morning, everything in his mannerisms said he was gallant and wanting to help this poor farmer, but inside he was happy he would finally be allowed to kill again!" she says, "If you won't trust the truth of my words, why ask me to check people out?"

"But... He's my husband! I must speak to him later, see if there is any truth to your words. Leave me. Now." Elesif dismisses the girl.

I step back, and cast an invisibility spell. When Laiwen leaves the room I follow her to her room, and when she's alone I paralyse her. Time to teach this bitch a lesson!

"Laiwen, Laiwen, Laiwen." I say, waving my hand to silence any noise leaving the room.  
"You couldn't leave well enough alone, could you? Everything was fine. I was a caring respectable king and husband, my wife a happy and naive queen. But you had to spoil it. I knew you were onto me; the suspicious glances, the making sure you were never alone with me! As soon as you told me your previous master I knew what it was. Sixth Sense! The master spell! A truly talented Mage you must be. If only you'd remembered to silence the room."

And with that I get to work. Little cuts made by my dagger, enchanted to leave a burning sensation, which I then heal over. Tens, then hundreds of cuts, her screams going on throughout the night, though they don't leave the room.

"Now Laiwen, we can't have you running away from me now, not with what you know! But I do need someone to take the fall for the Queen's unfortunate death-to-come." I say, enjoying the panic in her eyes.  
"So you're going to forget this! Well, not quite forget. You'll remember it happened, but think it was just a nightmare! Ah, the boons Vaermina grants!"

And then I leave.

Now for the next step.  
When I arrive in my room, Elesif awaits me.  
"My dear, we must speak about something, you-" she starts, but I stop her.  
"Yes, we must. I saw Laiwen, you know, the new servant, earlier, she was leaving something in a hollowed out log. When she left, I read what it said, you won't like it."

"What, no, Laiwen is-"  
"- planning on murdering you and discrediting me. She left four thousand Septims in the log, and the letter she left states that it's for Tears of Saren." I say gravely. Tears of Saren is a very specific poison, it kills without a trace, at a time after ingesting it dependent upon how many blooms of nightshade were added during the brewing. It has no antidote, even if you discover you took it before you die, and the only way to tell if your food is tainted is by using a very specific high-level detection spell, developed specifically for detecting this poison.

I love the thing.

The only good thing, in the eyes of potential victims, is the sheer difficulty obtaining one of the ingredients poses. Most of the ingredients are simple things, nightshade I had mentioned, deathbell too, but for the delay in effect you need something related to time. Many things will do, but none are easily obtained; ancestor moth wings, for example, are only found in well-hidden glades.  
Lucky then, that I know where one of those is.

Elesif is, of course, shocked. But as her beloved husband, she believes me over the new servant, and her belief is lent further credence by the fact that she doesn't know I know that Laiwen was here earlier to accuse me. What a marvellous game to play!

"I can't believe it!" she gasps, "Just now, Laiwen was here accusing you of being insincere and bloodthirsty!"  
"For trying to save Dragonbridge from bandits? Why would she think that?"

"Well, she's a master of Mysticism magic, I hired her to see if any of the court was hiding something." she says then, and I act as though I'm surprised and hurt.

"Why didn't you tell me? I would have liked to know who was running around me!"  
"Oh, I'm sorry dear, I just didn't think to tell you!" she says apologetically.  
"Alright then, but please don't let it happen again. They're my people too you know."

Predictably, Elesif subtly informs the captain of the guard of the risk of an assassination, and sends for a Mage from the College who can cast the detection spell for the Tears of Saren.  
But I give her the Tears the very next day, before the Mage has a Chance to arrive. With dinner, three drops in her wine, brewed with seven Nightshade flowers. She died around three in the morning.  
I act horrified and furious the next day, demanding the arrest of Laiwen. Confused and still in her sleeping clothes, she is dragged to the dungeons. A vial of colourless, odourless fluid is found in her chamber, and when the Mage arrives to test it, it is found to contain the Tears of Saren.

"Laiwen Medhel, daughter of Mithiel Medhel of Alinor and Aria Merus of Skingrad, you are charged with the murder of my wife, High Queen Elesif the Fair," I say at the formal hearing, making an effort to seem as though I made an effort to keep my voice level, "how do you plead?"

"I plead innocent!" she says, to crowd uproar. The daughter of a High Elf would never get much support in Skyrim, even if she takes after her Imperial mother. "I am being framed!" she then exclaims, glaring at me. She cannot openly accuse me, of course. There is simply no way her word would defeat mine.

"I myself found a letter and payment for the Tears of Saren, brewed with seven blooms of Nightshade, written in your hand and I saw you leave them for the alchemist.  
Tears of Saren have been found by the Palace Guard, within your quarters, brewed with seven nightshade flowers, which is coincides with my wife's time of," my voice cracks, "death."  
I deserve a medal for this masterful acting.

"The alchemist had poisoned himself before we found him, but the ingredients for the Tears were found within his workplace, along with a ledger stating he made them for "L.M." Laiwen Medhel, perhaps? Do you still plead innocent?"

Her face seems to fall as she realises the veritable mountain of evidence against her. "I'm being framed..." she says with a smaller voice then before, her eyes seeming to plead with me to stop.

But I won't stop. This is the most fun I've had since becoming High King!

"And, pray tell, who would be able to frame you so elaborately? Who has the resources needed to 'forge' such convincing evidence?" I ask, grinning slightly when only she looks at me.

"YOU!" she shouts back, and the crowd roars.

"How dare you." I say softly.  
"HOW DARE YOU ACCUSE ME OF MURDERING THE WOMAN I LOVED?" I Shout, my Thu'um shaking the building, as though I were losing control of myself. I act as though I force myself to take a deep breath, and continue.  
"Ladies and gentlemen of the court." I say, almost convincing myself my voice is that strained, "Do you judge this woman guilty of preplanned homicide, regicide, and slander?" the crowd roars approvingly.

Falk Firebeard stands up, tears in his eyes. He had truly been close to Elisif. "Yes. We do." the crowd's roars become even louder as Laiwen falls limp, like a puppet whose strings have been cut.

"Then, by the power vested in me as the King-regent, in absence of a chosen High King, I sentence Laiwen Medhel to death by decapitation!"  
The crowd agrees fully, as does the court. The execution would take place the very next day, and Laiwen is dragged back to the dungeon.

That night, I go visit her. The guards step aside and allow me in, after I tell them I just want to _understand_ why she would do such a thing.  
When I walk in, I silence the noises from the room and lock the door immediately.

"Laiwen, Laiwen, Laiwen." her head snaps up.  
"You couldn't leave well enough alone."  
She scrambles back towards a corner, muttering "You're not real, it's just a nightmare."

I laugh at how close she is. "Laiwen, you live in a nightmare. But what happened two nights ago was no dream. The boons of Vaermina are truly wonderful! So now, girl, you can go to sleep. And remember, when you die tomorrow, it's not Sovngarde that waits for you." I step closer to her, "It's Sithis." this prospect seems to push her almost over the edge, her breathing speeds up, her cheeks flush.  
"So goodbye, Laiwen Medhel, and have a nice last night!" I say as she passes out in terror.

Before I leave, I make sure to look as though I just confronted my wife's killer; teary eyed, desolate looking, I leave the room, taking down the spells I put up.  
"She did it to see if she could." I mutter quietly as I pass the guard. "Just to see if she could, she took my wife's life and destroyed mine."  
The guard looks uncomfortable and torn between ignoring what might be perceived as weakness and comforting his liege, and eventually settles on a middle ground.  
"I apologise, my lord."  
"'T was not your fault, good man. Just make sure nobody else enters that room before it's time. She's a skilled Mage, and I wouldn't want anybody else hurt." and then I walk away, smirking.

And as I bring the axe down the next morning, I whisper to her. "Hail Sithis."

The Moot. To choose the High King, the jarls convene. I must be present, of course, to represent Solitude.  
The moot is held in a mountainside cave, hidden well. As I walk in, I am confronted by statues, lining the walls. Previous High Kings, their achievements listed behind them. Some were warriors, some were mages. And now an assassin would join them, I grin at the thought.

As I walk past the other jarls, I quietly Shout "Gol Kreh" at them. Bend Will, but not the overpowering loss of control Rikke experienced. No, this was more subtle. These two words quietly changed their mind, reinforced what good they though of me and explained away the bad. Magnified the failings they saw in others, leaving me the best candidate by far.

"I submit myself as candidate for the throne." I say gravely, taking my seat. I almost laugh as some of the others seem to nod at the idea, their minds so weak. Only Idgrod Ravencrone seems unconvinced, some niggling doubt remaining. This doesn't surprise me. Anyone given the Sight would worry for the futures surrounding me. But Bend Will reassures her, telling her those are only _possible_ outcomes, and didn't I save her city from vampires that time?

For the first time in centuries the vote of the Moot is unanimous, and I am finally High King in my own right. Skyrim is mine, now for the rest of Tamriel...

 **Author's note:** I had actually planned this story as a oneshot, but I had reviews(!) that aseked whether I would continue, so here it is! One of the reviews seemed slightly overambitious in scope, expecting the destruction of Daedric Princes, which I doubt Calahar(who I've now named!) will be able to do at any stage soon, and also a foursome involving Daedric Princes (the female ones), which I won't be doing simply because any smut I'd write would likely be wholly inaccurate, due to the fact that my list of sexual eperiences can be counted on (and as) one hand.


	3. Chapter 3

The newly-crowned High-King of Skyrim, sat on his throne in an empty court room, thinking about the past. He fondly remembered his time with the Companions, those _noble_ and _honourable_ warriors, before he ended the Civil War and became High King, and how quick they were to turn on their own.

 _Flashback_

"Can you honestly say you never suspected?" the Harbinger says, lazing in his chair.

Famous throughout Skyrim, nay, Tamriel, for his actions. Saving the continent from a second Dragon Crisis, from the vampires who wished to destroy the sun. And then, in what must have captured bards' imaginations the world over, the last Dragonborn defeated the first, and Hermaeus Mora's puppet was defeated.

Harbinger of the companions, though he doesn't look the type. A Nord, but lithe and enduring rather than big and strong. A Nord, but without the hatred and fear of magic so common to his race, become Arch-Mage of the college of Winterhold.  
No, he was not what Nords had imagined their greatest hero would look like.

And now, draped across his chair in Jorrvaskr, his 'love' and Companion Aela confronts him.

"Did you truly believe that whenever I headed out on my own I was hunting down Dragons? Lass, were that true Skyrim would have been overrun by Dragons long ago, Alduin or no Alduin." he says, as he rises.

"I know they say love blinds people, but to this extent..." he marvels, "Are you that gullible by nature? Or was it truly love?" he mocks.

"Who else did you kill?" she asks, in a heartbroken voice that would strike at anyone's conscience.

Well, almost anyone's conscience.

"Me? Kill?" he says, all insulted innocence, "I would never kill someone! I prefer the term... Liberate. I freed them from their mortal binds. Anoriath need never worry about money again, Carlotta needn't worry about her poor daughter anymore either. Adalvald was so scared of the Thalmor in the end, and now he never has to fear them again!"

"You killed them in cold blood! How could you be so cruel?" she asks next.

"Cruel? I think not. I have seen Sovngarde, girl, I know what comes after this life. It is not so tortuous as you seem to believe. Anoriath will be welcomed by Hircine, hunter that he was, Adalvald feasts with his ancestors in Shor's hall. What cruelty is that, I ask? They are free. And soon, you will be too." he grins menacingly then, and draws his sword.

"I love you!" she cries desperately, a last attempt to save her life. She was no fool, Alduin's bane would not be bested by just any mortal, even a werewolf.

"I know." he says. And faster than the eye can follow his sword has pierced her throat. Her body falls, even as Hircine welcomes her spirit, leading her to the Hunting Grounds.

With no time to spare, the Listener stalks towards what used to be the Huntress' room. Grabbing the black and red clothes Nazir had given him for this purpose, he hides them in her cupboard, along with a note from the Redguard.

'A child has prayed to his mother. So begins a contract, bound in blood. Calahar Dovahkriid, Harbinger of the Companions and Arch-Mage of the College of Winterhold is to die. I know this will be no issue with you, after your job with Adalvald and Anoriath, but I shall tell you anyway. The fee has been payed, failure is not an option, Huntress.  
Night's blessing to you and shadows hide you.' it read.  
Damning evidence indeed.

He headed back to his room, where the cooling body of his ex-lover still lay. He ruffled his clothes and bed, just in time for Vilkas and Farkas to rush in, weapons drawn.

"What happened?" demands Vilkas, pointing his weapon at the harbinger.

"I don't know!" he shouts, faking panic, "I was asleep and when I woke she was standing over me with a knife! Do you think she was cursed?"

"I don't know, but I do know it looks suspicious." Vilkas glares at the harbinger.

Farkas tries to pacify his brother, "Let's check her room, maybe the wizard left something!

The Dragonborn holds back a smirk as they walk through the living quarters, arriving at Aela's.

Aela, who was famous for not letting anyone in her room, whatever the reason.

It took only a few minutes of rummaging around. "By the Nine... She was in the Brotherhood!" Farkas shouts out, holding the clothes. He grabs the note as it falls from the shrouded garb.  
"She was to kill you... Kynareth, she's the one who killed Adalvald and Anoriath! How could she do this? When did she join them?"

Playing up his knowledge of the Brotherhood, the Listener speaks. "The Dark Brotherhood has people everywhere. She may have joined the companions as one of them, they may have convinced her to switch prey after she became one of the Companions."

"And you would know this how?" ever suspicious, ever hostile, Vilkas' tone is anything but kind.

"I know how they work because they killed my family. I had thought that when I burned out the Falkreath hideout they'd keep a low profile. They chose revenge instead it seems." He says, choking up as he mentions his parents. He didn't feel the need to mention he was the Brotherhood assassin that killed his cruel parents.

"I... I'm sorry... I didn't know..." Vilkas says hesitantly. Suspicious he may be, but he isn't without humanity.

"No, no, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have snapped. You couldn't have known." the masterful actor says.

Vilkas, who now holds the note, remarks upon it's contents. "I don't think this was a matter of revenge. It says the fee has been payed, and I doubt they payed themselves to kill someone."

"Then someone still wants to kill me." the harbinger spoke gravely, "And the Brotherhood does not give up after one try."

'Good,' thought the assassin, 'now they'll be suspicious of everyone else.'

And the three climbed the stairs to the mead hall to inform the others. They were surprised at first, disbelieving even. But the letter and the clothes shook their certainty.  
All Aela's actions over the years were scrutinised. Her demand for privacy. Her long absences alone.

And they believed.

And the Listener smiled.

He would have to try that again.

 **Author's note:** I'm not entirely sure what to do next in Calahar's conquest of Tamriel, does he go to Cyrodiil to claim the throne? Does he take Hammerfell, Morrowind or Orsinium? Suggestions are welcome! I thought I'd put this interlude out there while people avidly await my next chapter (yes, both of you), and to see if anyone had suggestions.


End file.
